


By the Skin of His Teeth

by HaleHole (SweetFanfics)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Dentist!Stiles, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, if you'll pardon the pun hue hue hue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-29
Updated: 2015-10-29
Packaged: 2018-04-28 19:47:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5103557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetFanfics/pseuds/HaleHole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek hates dentists and has a cavity. Just his luck that the family dentist is one Stiles Stilinski, someone who Derek has been feeling sweet towards.</p>
            </blockquote>





	By the Skin of His Teeth

**Author's Note:**

> [Inspired by this adorable fanart by cofie](http://missmeeya.tumblr.com/post/132166644340/littlecofiegirl-lillian-raven-my-new-request)

Derek glares down at the golfing magazine in his hand, not paying attention to the text because of several reasons with the biggest two being that his aching tooth was killing him and that he was sitting in the dentist’s office.  
  


Now, don’t get him wrong, it’s not like he’s got a problem with dentists. Okay that’s a lie - he doesn’t like dentists. But ask any kid whose had to wear braces for five years what they think about dentists and most of 'em will cringe. So, yeah. He hates dentists _a lot_.   
  


He hates how freakishly white and clean their offices are. They always have this ‘close encounters of the fourth kind’ sort of vibe to them. And then there’s the tray of instruments, with the dreaded drill. Derek  _really_ hates the drill, with it’s low pitched whining noise that makes him want to pull his own teeth out.  
  


Ugh, just the  _memory_  of the drill sound makes Derek’s hands tighten and his jaw clench. Which is a big mistake because it makes his tooth ache flare up. With a pained wince, Derek forces himself to relax and breath through the pain. It’s a hard thing not to touch his cheek and he just barely manages it thanks to the sharp look Cora directs his way.  
  


Anyways. Dentists. Derek doesn’t like them in general. Doesn’t matter who they are, he just doesn’t find them to be someone he can bring himself to like. The mere  _mention_ of the word 'dentist’ is enough for Derek to get flashbacks to his teenager years and his jaw to twinge in the memory of tightened braces.  
  


No. Just, no. Okay? If you were to give him a chance, he’ll be more than happy to avoid dentists for the rest of his  _life_. Too bad that the cavity in his tooth has forced him to change his plans.  
  


Derek angrily flips a page and wonders why.  _Why_ does he have a cavity when he has been  _meticulous_ about his dental hygiene? Call it less a result of his braces and more of a preventive strategy to avoid any more visits to the dentist till he’s 70. He brushes his teeth twice a day, uses the 'overall protection’ mouthwash and flosses regularly.  
  


_So why the cavity?!_   
  


And  _why_ are they here at Stilinski’s Smiles? What was wrong with going to Dr. Gunther who has been their go-to dentist for years upon years? Ah right, he’d retired last year. Thereby forcing the Hale family to search out a new family dentist.   
  


If only they hadn’t picked the good looking Dr. Stilinski with his warm eyes, laughing mouth and lean body that seems leaner still because of the graphic tee and white coat combination he tended to favor. And his hands, has Derek ever mentioned the hands? Long, elegant fingers that Derek thought were more suited to playing an instrument rather than handling evil, pain inducing dentist instruments.  
  


Derek has only been at the clinic a handful of times, talked with Stiles a grand total of maybe four times and apparently, that’s been enough for his heart to be completely smitten with the man who will happily make use of hand puppets to soothe a scared child’s nerves and gravely discuss which color the rubber bands ought be on Jenny’s braces with all the seriousness of a monk.   
  


And at every one of their meets, Stiles has cheerfully stuffed a lollipop (sugar free) into Derek’s mouth and told him to 'Lighten up! Don't you know if you keep scowling like that your face is gonna get stuck that way forever?’ before going on to stuff another lollipop in his own mouth and sucking on it in a way that no one should do when there's kids around.  
  


He may or may not have retaliated by crunching his lollipop down to candy dust and swept out with Jenny under his hand. Jenny had babbled about the event to her mother and Laura had, in turn, called him up and laughed herself silly at his expensive. Then somehow his mother had found out and long story short, everyone in his family now knows about his crush on Dr. Stilinski and they keep finding ways for him to meet with the man. He never thought his  _teeth_ would be in on his family's scheming as well.  
  


 _'Maybe this is Laura’s fault,’_  Derek muses darkly to the smiling man in the magazine. The sound of a door rattling open, blinds clacking against the window, makes Derek look up with a nervous jerk. His stomach begins to twist in worry as Stiles holds the door open for his patient while cheerfully instructing her not to eat anything for the next hour and to avoid any food that is too hot or cold. __  
  
  


His eyes dart to the exit. Could he make a run for it? Surely he can live with the tooth ache if he has enough pain killers on hand. And if worse comes to worse, he can just extract the tooth with- “Next please!” Stiles’ chipper assistant declares with a smile in his direction. “Mr. Hale, if you’ll come this way.”  
  


His hands crunch the magazine in his hand, a distressed whining noise building in the back of his throat as he imagines the pain that lies in store for him. Cora looks at him, raising a bored eyebrow at his clear distress before her expression softens. “Don’t worry. I’ll go in with you. It’s going to be alright.”  
  


Alright?  _Alright_? How can it be alright? The guy he likes is going to be poking and prodding around in his mouth like a drunk elephant trying to perform heart surgery causing Derek nothing but pain which will wind up being a negative experience he’ll always relate with Stiles and that’s going to be the end of that relationship before it even gets off the ground!  
  


“Mr. Hale?” The assistant, Heather if he remembers her name correctly, beams at him as she waits. “Could you follow me please?”  
  


Derek tosses the now crumpled magazine back on his seat as he mutters to Cora, “It’s fine. You don’t have to come with me.”  
  


Cora stares at him long and hard, weighing Derek’s sulky attitude, before she shrugs, crosses her legs and picks up a nearby Cosmo and begins to flip through it.   
  


Hurrah for familial support, Derek thinks to himself as he steps through the open door. He's been inside this room before and every time Derek feels taken aback. The room is unlike any other dentist office Derek has seen. For starters, there’s a huge Justice League poster on the wall, first in the line of many comic and movie posters that taper off into, of all things, a My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic section. It’s looks nothing like a dentist office, to be short.  
  


Like always, Derek is taken aback at how colorful the room is and misses the sight of Stiles leaning up from the sink and wiping his hands clean.

 

“Derek!”

 

The man in question jumps at the sudden voice, whipping around to watch Stiles amble up to him. Stiles’ hair is in glorious disarray, _'like he lost a fight with a hairbrush’_  his brain mumbles to him, he’s got a black AC/DC shirt on and… red jeans. Why is he wearing red jeans.  
  


He stares long and hard at the brightly colored denim, looking up only when Stiles chuckles sheepishly. “What? Never seen someone wear red jeans before?”  
  


“Can’t say I have.” Derek replies honest enough because Laura likes her skirts, Cora the classic blue denim and Emmy’s in a printed tights phase that he hopes she’ll grow out of soon. So no, he hasn’t seen anyone over five wearing bright red jeans. Fashion, he doesn’t get it some days.  
  


Stiles rolls his eyes and pats Derek’s shoulder, “I’m not even surprised.” Derek glances down at Stiles’ hand and is more than a little woeful when Stiles takes the look the wrong way and quickly takes his hand back. “So! What seems to be the problem? Heather said something about a tooth ache?”  
  


Derek shuffles forward towards the dentist chair like it’s a tiger ready to pounce on him instead of just wires, foam and frame. “Yeah. I think I might have a cavity.” he answers, watching Stiles slip on a pair of gloves with a sharp snap before he gingerly lies down in the open seat.  
  


“Alright then.” Stiles declares, slipping a surgical mask over his mouth before he wheels forward on his stool. One hand adjusts the light overhead while with the other he pulls the instrument tray forward so that it rests a few inches away from Derek’s chest. “Open wide. Let's take a look.”  
  


With an aggravated sigh, Derek opens his mouth and closes his eyes, ready for any pain that might come his way. His entire body is tense as a  violin string about to 'twang’ to death when he hears Stiles’ fingers brush against soft paper to pick up his tools. It’s probably the reflective mirror and the strange hook tool that all dentists use like human beings use cutlery. Huh, they must be the fork and spoon of the dentist world by that logic.  
  


His hands tighten on the arm rest when he feels a gentle tap against his right molar. “Here?” Stiles asks, voice muffled. Derek lightly shakes his head and points to his left cheek.  There’s another gentle tap, against his left molar, that makes Derek’s hands grip the arm rest with a quick gasp.   
  


Stiles lets out a quiet aha before he begins to do… well, Derek can’t tell what with lying on his back with his eyes closed. There’s maybe 30 seconds of silence before Stiles says, “Yeah, definitely a cavity. But lucky for you it’s pretty small. I can fill it in right now and you’ll be good to go.”  
  


Eyes flickering open, Derek peers up at the light before turning his head to watch Stiles, who is staring placidly back at him. “What y’ say?” The doctor asks him.  
  


Derek shrugs and leans back. “Do I have a choice?” he snarks under his breath.   
  


“There’s always a choice.” Stiles answers sagely, rolling over towards the cabinets before he begins to paw through them. Derek stares at the light, the ceiling and turns to eye Pinkie Pie cheerfully declaring that one should always floss after eating friendship cakes.  
  


“Dammit where  _is_ it…” Stiles grumbles loudly. “Heather!” The girl in question pops her head in after a few seconds, turning right towards the doctor who is now swearing at the cabinet in increasingly creative ways. “I can’t find that filling tube.”  
  


The blond steps into the office with a frown, heels clicking against the floor as she makes a beeline for the cabinet. “Did you check the third drawer?” She asks, yanking the drawer open.  
  


“Of courseI did! I couldn’t find it so I called you.”  
  


“But it’s right there!”  
  


“Where?” Derek stares with rising amusement as Stiles leans into the drawer, frowning heavily at the contents while Heather rolls her eyes and picks a small tube up and smacks it into Stiles’ head.  
  


“You’re welcome!” The woman snarks before walking out of the room, pointedly closing the door behind her.   
  


There’s a moment of silence that hangs in the air before Stiles mumbles, “I don’t know how she does that.”  
  


Derek waits a beat before replying, “You do realize this is making me question your competency in general?” He immediately wants to take that back with a wince. This isn’t how he ought to be acted towards the person he likes! Derek wants to sit up and smack the light into his own head as self punishment.  
  


But thankfully, Stiles simply laughs and continues to put together the items he needs for the procedure, like Derek’s words are the funniest thing he’s ever heard. “I’ll have you know that I'm  _very_ competent at what I do.” Is Derek just imagining the flirty undertones to Stiles’ voice or are they actually there?  
  


“I’ll believe that when I see it.” Derek answers back, flinching slightly when he notices Stiles adjusting a new head onto the drill he’s plucked out of it’s place.  
  


Stiles pauses, his mirth being replaced with a sharp look that quickly melts into understanding. “Not fond of the drill?"   
  


He makes a face and grunts, "Understatement.”  
  


“If it makes you feel any better, I’ve got a really light hand so you’ll barely feel it.” Derek casts a severely dubious look at the doctor and then the drill before he audibly scoffs. Like there’s such a thing as a light hand with a dentist drill. There’s only painful and uncomfortable.   
  


Stiles holds the drill up, second hand on his chest. “I swear on my license that if you feel any pain then I’ll walk around the waiting area like a chicken.”  
  


An amused snort bursts out of him, his hand coming up too late to muffle the sound. Derek feels more relaxed than he ever has before in the dentist chair when he grins up at Stiles and replies, “I’ll take that bet.”  
  


Roughly 30 minutes later, Derek is sitting up in his chair, feeling thoroughly astounded. “I don’t get it.” He repeats for the nth time, his tongue gently pressing over the space where the cavity had been, feeling the smooth filling. He can’t even feel the filling’s edges!  
  


Stiles all but preens as he pulls the mask and gloves off, grinning delightedly in the face of Derek’s shock. “Told you I was good.”  
  


“Yeah…” Derek replies distractedly, wondering how Stiles had managed to clean the cavity with the drill without causing any pain. He honestly didn’t think that it was possible for any dentist to use a drill and not cause short intervals of pain for their patient.   
  


He is startled out of his thoughts when Stiles rolls forward, legs spread and hands curling into the seat in the space between, an eager grin on his lips. “Soooo,” the man drawls, “what do I get for winning the bet?”  
  


A smirk pulls his lips up at the corner. “A potential life-long customer?” Derek teases, unable to stop himself.  
  


Stiles barks an amused laugh, throwing his head back. When he looks back down, his grin is all teeth. “I was thinking something else. Something... like...” Derek quirks an eyebrow up as he wordlessly asks what Stiles has in mind. He nearly jumps out of the chair when Stiles’ knee bumps into his own. “Like you could take me out for coffee. Or lunch. Dinner and a movie.” Stiles murmurs, the shy pink color speaking over his cheeks makes Derek suck in a much needed gulp of air. “Whatever works for you.”

 

Derek is certain that he’s doing a fair impression of a startled owl when he sits and stares at Stiles for what feels like hours but is probably juts a few seconds. “You… want me to…”  
  


“If you’d like! I mean, it’s cool if you don’t want too! We could just act like this never happened and we can go back to the way things were before minus all the anvil sized hints I kept dropping that you kept missing like I was Wile E. Coyote and you were the Road Runn-”  
  


“Stiles.” Derek cuts the man off, smiling slightly as the younger man looks at up with wide eyes. “I’d like that.” He confesses quietly, knocking his knee back into Stiles. “Coffee maybe?”  
  


Stiles nods his head so hard and fast that Derek fears that it might roll off his head. “Yeah, yes! Sure! Tomorrow? At The Grind? Around 4 maybe?” With a firm nod of his own, Derek pushes himself up to his feet.  
  


Which puts him neatly in between Stiles parted legs. With Stiles’ head coming near the general vicinity of his crotch and stomach and isn't  _that_ a thought he doesn’t need right now. Stiles blinks up at him in surprise before he looks down straight at Derek’s torso before he lets out a strangled yelp and topples over backward.  
  


It’s a tiny bit of a relief to find out that he’s not the only one feeling flustered about this whole affair. “Are you alright?” Derek asks, quickly stepping over to where Stiles has keeled over.  
  


The younger man has a foot up on the stool while the other is on top of the spindle and his eyes are brimming with surprise. “Yeah. Yeah. Just fine. Nothing bruised. Except my ego.” The last part is grumbled under his breath, making Derek bite down a smile.   
  


Heather pops in again, a concerned look on his face this time. “Everything alright in here? I heard a crash?” Stiles immediately flaps his hands at her, declaring that everything is fine and dandy and there was nothing to see here so she could go back to her thing. Her eyes narrow suspiciously at Stiles before she mutters something inaudible under her breath and goes out.  
  


Derek stares at the door before he turns back towards Stiles and asks, “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”  
  


The smile that he gets for that question is  _blinding_. Derek feels stunned stupid when Stiles replies, “Yes, I’ll see you then. Oh!” He continues feeling punch-drunk as Stiles pulls a pen out of one of his pockets, grabs Derek’s arm and scribbles something on the inside of his wrist.  
  


“My number.” Stiles explains with a coy twist to his lips when he sees the confused look Derek is giving the digits. His…  _oh_.   
  


He doesn’t think when his fingers pluck the pen out of Stiles’ hand and scribbles his own cellphone number on Stiles’ arm in return. Derek smiles as he tucks the pen back into the younger man’s arm and murmurs, “Better take mine too.”  
  


Stiles looks a tiny bit dazed as he stares up at him. “Yeah, okay. Thanks.”  
  


“See you.” Derek takes a step back towards the door, keeping eye contact with Stiles and feeling more than a little hopelessly in love when the man throws him a small wave.  
  


As he turns on his heels, sneakers squeaking against the clean floor, Derek gets the urge to look back at Stiles. He decides that he’ll do that from the doorway - he’ll open the door, look back, say good bye, get Cora and go home.  
  


It’s a good plan. Except the part where Cora’s waiting for him right outside. She looks at him and immediately grabs his arm going, “We gotta run, Mom wants us to pick some stuff up before dinner and we’re already running late.”  
  


As Derek is dragged out of the office, he looks back over his shoulder anyways. Stiles is standing in the doorway, speaking to dark haired woman holding a young child in her arms. His eyes dart up to Derek’s for a split second, a ghost of a smile passing over his face before he turns back towards the mother and the child.  
  


“So?” Cora inquires as they walk towards the car, “How was it? I didn’t hear any cries for help so I’m going to assume he knocked you out?”  
  


Derek shakes his head, pulling his keys out of his pocket. “No. He didn’t use any anesthesia.”  
  


“Really?” His sister inquires with a surprised look, moving over towards the passenger side. “Did he club you on the head then?"   
  


He rolls his eyes at Cora’s attempt at humor. He’s not  _that_ bad. ” _No_. He was just… he had light hands.“ Derek focuses his attention on the car and not Cora when he says this, knowing full well that Cora might read too deeply into his words.  
  


So he slips into the drivers seat and pulls his seatbelt on, waiting for Cora to do the same before he starts the car. But his sister just sits there, staring at him like he’s a crossword puzzle word she can’t figure out. "Seatbelt.” Derek reminds her.  
  


Cora ignores him, narrowing her eyes further as she mumbles, “There’s something fishy going on here.”  
  


Rolling his eyes, Derek pointedly taps his watch before saying, “Put your seatbelt on, we don’t want to be late for dinner.” Maybe if he avoids Cora’s questions long enough, she’ll forget the whole issue.  
  


“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, Derek.” Cora retorts, quickly slipping her seatbelt on. “I’ll figure this out.” He really,  _really_ hopes that she won’t. Not until it’s too late for her to meddle anyways, Derek prays quietly to himself as he pulls out of the parking lot.


End file.
